


Pig For Slaughter

by Weirdling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff and Smut, Horcruxes, M/M, Magic, Magical Accidents, Manipulative Dumbledore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Parseltongue, Parseltongue Kink, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Tom Riddle, Possessive Voldemort, Pre-Slash, Racebent Harry, Sane Voldemort, Scar Horcrux - Freeform, Slash, Slow Build, Underage Masturbation, Wandless Magic, Well-Meaning Dumbledore, Wizarding Politics, Wizarding Traditions, Wizarding Wars, Wizarding World, Wizarding World Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:40:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weirdling/pseuds/Weirdling
Summary: The little boy, Harry, was lonely. The abuse that the boy dealt with the Dursleys for years took a toll on his heart at a young age; it made him wish for a connection, with someone, anyone. To just accept him, maybe even love him. Well, as the old saying goes.Be careful what you wish for.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bound in Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6448279) by [mucik24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mucik24/pseuds/mucik24). 



> As this story progresses I will add more tags along the way, I, in no shape or form condone any of the things that are in the following tags that people may find offensive. I was honestly debating not to add anything and change the story entirely but I just decided to wing it and see what happens. 
> 
> I'm truly sorry if some of the things that will happen in the story trigger you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way. I tried my best to add all warnings that I could think of that will be in the story. The beginning of the story will look similar to 'Bound in Darkness', but there is a reason for it. You'll see what I mean. This is my first fanfiction I'm publishing and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the works of J.K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters. (I wish, though) And this is a work of fanfiction. As for my schedule of updating stories, I'm sorry to say again I don't have one at the moment. I will eventually and without further ado!
> 
> Happy reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this story progresses I will add more tags along the way, I, in no shape or form, condone any of the things that are in the following tags that people may find offensive. I was honestly debating not to add anything and change the story entirely, but I just decided to wing it and see what happens. I'm genuinely sorry if some of the things that will happen in the story trigger you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way. I tried my best to add all warnings that I could think of that will be in the story. This is my first fanfiction I'm publishing, and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the works of J.K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter, or it's characters. (I wish, though) And this is a work of fiction. As for my schedule of updating stories, I'm sorry to say again I don't have one at the moment. I will eventually.  
> Without further ado!
> 
> Happy reading!

The sick boy's eyes fluttered open to see the darkness of his cupboard; his sleep was interrupted by the sounds of his Uncle Vernon's thunderous snoring. His small hands searched above him blindingly to find his glasses that rested on the dusty shelf, feeling the broken spectacles touching his fingertips, Harry grabbed and slid them on his face. His throat racked with coughs and his nose slightly stuffy from laying on the cold floor, at least his cousin's over-sized shirt manage to keep him warm at night. But unfortunately, earlier on, Harry had slightly burnt the dinner that he cooked for Dursley's and received punishment for his attempt 'sabotage' and that meant no food from the scraps on the table. His stomach cramped and growled at the thought of it.

The boy gripped and turned the doorknob to find it locked. His eyes squeezed shut—he knew his Uncle always bolt the door after he's in here, but his stomach can't go another night without food. It was starting to hurt too much. With urgency in him as his body slump against the small door, he feebly tried again and again to open it.

_Please open, please open, please—_  

 

Even with the sound of the door clicking open, feeling the sudden breeze caressing his face and yet he didn't dare open his eyes. Harry tried to convince himself that this was a dream, that he would wake up soon to hear heavy stomps of his cousin running down the steps, pounding his meaty fists on the door in a random fashion to wake him up. A shuddering breath left his lips as he waited for something,  _anything_ to stop this dream.

 

_Ticktock . . . ticktock . . . ticktock._

 

The grandfather clock ticked away, echoing off the walls of the living room. The little boy's eyes slowly opened, seeing the bluish moonlight seeping through the hallway, his head peeking out of the door. His heart was beating like a hummingbird's wings as he took a step, then another, and soon he was out of the cupboard. His face was stricken with astoundment.

_I'm sure that Uncle Vernon locked the door! He always locks up the door! Did my Uncle forget to do it tonight? He couldn't have! How—?_

The growl of his stomach pulled Harry from his thoughts, reminding him of his hunger. It's a perfect opportunity to sneak him some food. He wasn't about to waste his chance! He tiptoed to the kitchen, carefully pried the refrigerator open; he lifts the over-sized shirt to make a little pouch to place the food. He only took fruits and vegetables. No one would notice them missing since his Aunt Petunia needed to feed her 'Dudders the best of foods' and his uncle believed it to be rabbit food. Harry made his way back to his cupboard and placed the food in a small torn pillowcase to keep hidden somewhere in the dusty webbed corner.

He didn't need to worry about anyone coming in here; his aunt hates spiders and Uncle Vernon, along with his cousin, Dudley, are always too busy stuffing their faces to bother checking. As Harry was in the process of returning to the dark cupboard, his eyes landed on the white double doors that lead to the garden was cracked opened. The moonlight poured into the room, spilling across the floor in a large puddle. Harry knew he would somehow be blamed for this, taking another risk, he quietly walked toward the doors to close them.

The greenery was soaking up the valuable, pale light cascading over the tender leaves of the tree in the backyard, along with the various flowers and roses against the wooden fence. Harry remembers on Dudley's tenth birthday; Marge's bulldog chasing him up that tree, trying to bite at his ankles, he was stuck up there for hours. The Dursleys laughed all night long as they were watching the fear on his face of almost getting mauled. The moon enchanted Harry that he didn't notice the doors opening for him as he stepped outside.

A canopy of stars materialized amongst the sky of blackness. Some were dull, merely flickering into existence now and then, but there was an adequate amount of twinkling stars to illuminate the dark, peaceful night. Harry doesn't see the moon or the stars as much as he wants to, he feels more comfortable at night than in the daytime. During the day, he has to endure his cousin hitting him on the side of his stomach when he's cooking breakfast, hearing the constant belittling from Uncle Vernon, seeing the disgust on Aunt Petunia's face at the sight of him. The little boy felt to be a massive burden in the life of the Dursleys', and they make sure he knows it every day.

Suddenly, a bright stream of light beamed across the starry sky, outshining the other motionless stars. Harry read of something like this! In the old, wilted books he found from the cupboard. The Dursleys forbade him from reading books, _especially_ books about magic. They don't tell him why not; he couldn't ask without receiving a glare or a swat across the head. They think he might get ideas. In the books, it would say if you wish for something on a shooting star, it will happen. But what would be Harry's request? For his parents? To be free from the Dursleys? Or maybe a friend?

“H-hello, Mr. Shooting Star. O-or Ms. Shooting Star!” Harry quickly corrected, his cheeks flushing red. He hoped he didn't offend the star. “I-I would like to wish for something, please. I hope I'm not bothering you.”

Harry had paused for a moment before clasping his hands together and closing his eyes.

“I wish.. for someone to love me, to read stories with me at night, to talk to me when I feel lonely, to play games with me, a-and to tell me I'm a good boy sometimes if that's not too much . . . Please, and thank you for listening,” he whispered to the night sky, a familiar burning sensation stung his eyes.

Harry sniffled softly, wiping the tears that flow down his face. Readjusting his broken glasses, he shuffled back inside the house and closed the white double doors behind him and made his way back to his room; he sat down on the cold floor, closing the door to his cupboard. Harry ate the delicious apple that made his stomach cease its aching for the night. The little boy took his glasses off, placing them back on the dusty shelf; he curled his knees into the over-sized shirt before drifting into a deep sleep.

* * *

_Meanwhile, as Harry slept soundly throughout the night, something warm pulse throughout his body, leaving tingles and goosebumps kissing at his skin. The boy's scar faintly glowed, illuminating the walls of the cupboard. The mark grew slightly in size, crackling along further from the middle to the side of his forehead. The young boy shivered in his sleep as a dim, shadowy presence loomed behind him—watching; it was all it could do._

 

 

**_For now._ **


End file.
